Clergyman's Salvation
by The Dark Knight's Revenge
Summary: Philip lays dying on the edge of the pool, and Syrena is his only hope for healing. But once he is healed, will he ever see her again? What can one clergyman do against fate itself?
1. Chapter 1

"Don't leave me..." Philip gasped, his vision blurring with the pain of his sliced stomach. Blood ran down on to the rocks. "Please"

"I can heal you" Syrena whispered, nimble fingers moving to cup Philip's sweating face, trailing water.

"Please. I want to spend my life with you" the dying clergyman pleaded.

"You have only to ask..."

Syrena slipped under the water, and Philip desperately plunged his hand in after her, screaming unintelligible words.

"No! Don't leave me! Please, heal me..." He sobbed.

Philip's vision began to darken, and his breath came in rasping sobs. All seemed lost.

Then, cool hands graced the skin of his face yet again, as Syrena pressed her soft lips to his gasping ones. Soundlessly, his body entered the water, sliding under the smooth surface with barely a ripple.

Once underneath the water, time seemed to slow for Philip. Syrena began to encircle him, humming unknown mermish words that sounded like the songs played on Angel's harps as they descended from heaven. Indeed, Syrena looked like an angel herself, swirling in the water as she sang.

Philip didn't even notice as water began to seep into his lungs, choking off his oxygen supply. It felt like he was breathing air as a warmth came over him, drastic to the chill of the water before.

Everything slowly faded to black.

* * *

Philip awoke on land, days later. The sun above assaulted his eyes as they fluttered open. He groaned, sluggishly sitting up. It felt as if he had been wrung through a washerwoman's press then logged full of beer and dumped on a deserted island.

As he looked around his surroundings, the former clergyman realized he had gotten one out of three right. He was on the Fountain's island, and no other mortal was to be seen around him. The only sounds were the birds in the coconut trees and the waves coming in naught ten feet from his boots.

His stomach growled, and Philip was faced with the challenge of food. He had lost his knife back at the pool, and had carried no other weapon. That ruled out the chance of meat for a suitable meal.

Philip groaned and rubbed his temples. He needed water as well.

Standing on shaky legs, Philip expected to have the same burning pain across his chest and stomach where he had been stabbed, but was amazed to find his wounds healed.

"Praise to god" He muttered, crossing himself. Of course, it wasn't god's work that had brought him this, it was Syrena's.

Through his groggy senses, Philip felt a pang of loss when he didn't see his mermaid fancy materialize in front of him. He set off down the beach, unable to keep his eyes from wandering to the ocean surf, just to catch a glimpse of a certain mermaid.

Under the baking sun, Philip walked on. He had absolutely no clue where he was, and less of an idea where he might find nourishment and water. He began to strike into the trees, murmuring prayers to bring him good fortune all the while.

After a good time, he heard the tell-tale sound of running water. He broke into a run, pushing through the trees with a speed only the most thirsty of men possess.

Surely enough, a lengthy stream ran through a clearing that was soon visible to Philip's eyes. He fell down to the cool liquid eagerly, lapping it up in great gulps. Nothing had ever tasted more delicious.

After he had drank his fill, Philip looked for a source of food. Not being familiar with the geography, he was careful not to eat anything unless he knew exactly what it was. Finally, after hiking for what seemed to be hours, he found a coconut that had fallen to the ground and cracked it, eating the meat inside with vigor.

Now he was at a loss. With his physical needs met, Philip was consumed by his anguish over Syrena. Why had she left him? Why did she leave after placing him on the beach? Why did she abandon him to fend for himself?

He fell to his knees, throwing his hands in the air as was custom to the deepest, most devout prayer. He prayed for his survival, he prayed for Syrena, and he prayed for a weapon.

As if god himself had come down to earth to offer up a solution, Philip opened his eyes to see a large stick in front of him, sharpened perfectly at the end. The ultimate weapon and walking staff.

He crossed himself yet again, and picked up the staff, hefting it in his hand. It was magnificent, and just what he needed.

Philip struck out in the direction he thought was the beach, it would be the safest place for shelter, and as long as he stayed a good distance from the waves, he would not be prey to anything within the waters.

By his estimate, the sun was at high noon position, which gave him a good amount of time to set up a defendable shelter.

Clergyman though he was, Philip Swift was going to survive.


	2. Chapter 2

By nightfall, Philip had constructed a laughable yet sturdy shelter of leaves and driftwood. He also found two rocks to serve as flint, and before long had a merry fire going to ease the chill of the night.

His haggard face illuminated by the crackling flames, Philip appeared much older than he really was. Not yet 25, he looked a decade beyond his years.

The trials of the past few days had etched deep circles under his eyes, and now thin lines had been imprinted around his eyes and on his forehead where none had been before.

Philip lay back on the sand after consuming another coconut, watching the heavens in the inky sky above. The stars seemed more distant than usual, further away. Colder.

The Clergy sighed. Here on this deserted island, he had time for deep reflection. On himself, on his fate... On his religion.

So far, his life had been utterly meaningless. What had he done? Hidden behind his bible because it gave him an excuse to believe there was good in this world. Good there was, but not among the people he had so far been in the company of. If god was supposed to offer salvation from evil to those who believed in him, why had he not been yet saved by god's mercy?

A breeze wafted over the man, causing him to shiver. Philip really was abandoned. No ship, no real shelter, no knife, no god, and no mermaid. Odds were not on his side. This island was where he was meant to live out his days, whether he had resigned himself to the life there or not. Without a ship, he was stranded. The pirates that had brought him to this place were long gone by now.

Another draft brushed over his skin, this time bringing with it a sound. Philip sat up, listening. Keeping his ears pricked to catch the song wafting to him on the wind.

Strands of a forlorn melody could just be heard to the East, down the beach.

Philip stood and began to stumble towards it, unable to realize the trap he was walking into.

_"...My heart is pierced by Cupid... I disdain all glittering gold...There is nothing that can console me but my jolly sailor bold..."_

The familiar notes grew louder as Philip drew on, following the song like a possessed man. The sand under his feet gradually turned to rocks as he ventured up the cliffs, unknowingly towards White Cap Bay.

All Philip could think of was the song; of the voice singing it. He only knew of one type of woman that could possess a voice so fine as the one he was hearing.

It was the voice of a mermaid.

The booming of the waves got louder, nearly drowning out the song. Philip heeded no attention to his footing. He was completely under the song's enchantment.

His next staggering step fell into onyx darkness, pitching him headfirst of the edge of the jagged cliff with a yell. A loud splash could be heard as he hit the rough sea below him.

Philip coughed and spluttered, trying to clear the saltwater out of his lungs. The mermaid's spell was broken, and Philip realized just what a mess he was in. Around him, silvery green fins began to circle, still humming the sailor's tune that had drawn him in.

The mermaid wasn't his love. How could he have even been a stupid fool to assume such a fantasy? It would get him killed now, just as the mermaids had planned.

Crying for help was useless, there was no one there. The pitch black waves pushed him back against the cliff face, bruising his back.

A fair-haired mermaid made its way to him, her face emerging from the water, adorned with a virginal smile.

Philip refused to be captured by this creature's beauty. He knew as well as any man that she would drown him and feast upon his remains if he allowed her to finish casting her spell.

Another wave, another bruise. Philip tried to swim away in vain, but was pushed back yet again.

"Come now..." the mermaid purred, taking his face in her silky hand.

"N-no" He choked out. The mermaid's eyes flashed in the dim light, and Philip saw the fangs begin to lunge for his neck.

In complete desperation, the clergyman cried out the only name he could think of at that moment.

"SYRENA!"


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Philip noticed when he began to wake up, was that he was not dead. He also wasn't in the water anymore, so that meant he was somewhere on land. More importantly, though. Who had brought him here?

He blinked open his eyes to see the sun filtering down through a canopy of trees above him. He could smell something cooking nearby. Painfully, he rolled to his side to see a merry fire crackling, some fish strips dangling tantalizingly over the flames as they cooked.

The missionary pulled himself up, groaning as he began to feel every single bruise that he had gotten during his cliffside trip.

What a stupid idea that had been... Plunging himself off a cliff to try and find a mermaid who's alliegances to him weren't even clear.

If that was so, then who had brought him here, to the beach? If it wasn't Sirena, then perhaps he wasn't alone after all...

A rustling sound from the trees to his right captured Philip's attention. At last, he would find out what angel had plucked him from a certain watery grave.

The ferns parted, and Sirena stepped into his vision, looking more radiant than ever. Philip smiled.

"I knew you would come back to me" He said, wincing as he did so.

"Only a fool throws himself off a cliff" She replied, eyes flashing with annoyance.

"Only a fool in love" Phillip uttered, watching as Sirena froze and looked at him.

"It is forbidden" she whispered, setting down the pouch of water that she had been carrying. From Phillip's spot across from her, he could see the small glowing tears dripping down her porcelain cheeks.

"Then why did you save me?" Phillip asked bluntly.

"I-" Syrena started, then stopped, face devoid of emotion. Phillip pulled himself to his knees and crawled over to the Mermaid, hesitantly putting an arm around her. To his relief, she didn't shy away.

"You know that I will devote myself to you fully, no matter if you felt the same way or not" Phillip took his chances and placed a kiss on Syrena's temple before crawling back to his spot on the other side of the fire.

When Syrena said nothing else, Phillip sighed and rolled to face away from the fire, looking out at the ocean and allowing himself to drift off to sleep.

* * *

Phillip came back to consciousness a couple hours later, judging by how the sun had moved across the sky. The fish strips were done and had been left to cool on a flat rock near the fire.

Phillip set upon the fish, relieved that Syrena had left him with provisions before she went back to the sea.

Of course she had left him, his attempt at romantic actions earlier in the day were probably inexcusable...

Phillip ate the fish moodily, tossing the bones back in the fire.

"Stupid wanker, codsfish, of course the lady doth protest your actions-" This went on for a few minutes, the clergy uttering words that god would probably have smote him for saying.

"Codswallop, God left you on this island to rot, i'm sure he wouldn't mind you swearing about it"

"Do you always talk to yourself?"

Phillip broke off his string of swear words ubruptly, looking up to see Sirena standing on the beach, framed by the blue ocean.

"Yes and no" He replied, turning his head to the side with a smile.

"I have thought on your words earlier, and I-" Syrena stopped, her head whipping to her right, watching down the beach as if listening. The mermaid stood stock-still.

"Syrena?" Philip asked after a moment. Syrena looked at him, an expression of deep fear on her pale face.

"It is no longer safe here, we must go!" With that, Syrena pulled Phillip to his feet and dragged him deeper into the trees, not stopping until it was near dark.

Finally, Phillip's legs could go on no more and he collapsed against a tree. Syrena stopped just ahead, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Syrena... What has happened?" Phillip gasped between breaths. Syrena looked at him with wide green eyes, then turned away, shoulders shaking.

"My sisters, they... They were going to murder us as soon as the moon came up" Syrena's voice broke.

Phillip pulled himself to his feet and came to Syrena, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She turned into her chest, wetting the tattered reamins of his shirt with her pearly tears.

"We will stay here tonight, then we will take to the cliffs" Phillip murmured in the mermaid's ear.

"It doesn't matter where we go, they will find us" Syrena said glumly.

"We have to try" Phillip replied. Syrena broke away from him, pacing around the clearing.

"I cannot stay up here long, Phillip! I need to be in the water! Did you forget that I belong to the sea?" Syrena fumed.

"I know you belong to the sea, my love. That is why I try all the harder to steal you away" Syrena looked at him for a moment.

"I will have to go back sooner or later... You know this" She replied softly, coming forwards and touching his cheek.

"I beg of you, don't go" Phillip pleaded.

"I will stay here tonight" Syrena murmured, a faraway look entering her eyes.

That night, Phillip and Syrena lay back to back for warmth.

On the breeze, the light notes of mermaid song floated up from the sea. Phillip could feel Syrena's shoulders shaking as she cried from lonliness. Her tears stabbed a knife of guilt through his heart.

Syrena didn't belong here, and it was not his place to steal her away from her home.

He had to let her go.


	4. Chapter 4

Philip tossed and turned that night, his anguish over Syrena's pain allowing him no sleep. Not until the dawn came, and the haunting mermaid's song died, did he finally succumb to exhaustion.

A few hours later, though it seemed like only minutes passed, Philip awoke with a start. Turning his head gently towards the east, he saw that the sun had not yet risen to shine through the trees. That meant it was still early. The Clergyman's eyes felt like they had been filled with sand, and he barely stifled a yawn.

Philip turned his head the other way, suddenly aware of a warm weight on his side. To his amazement, Syrena lay curled into him, clinging to his arm. She was still asleep, her hair being gently ruffled in the slight morning breeze.

Philip was hit with a pang of guilt when he saw dried tear tracks on the Mermaid's porcelain cheeks and dark circles ringing her eyes. She must not have slept that night either.

As if she felt him watching her, Syrena stirred and opened her eyes. The two stared at each other for a moment before Philip went out on a limb and gently kissed her forehead. Like before, she didn't shy away, only looked blankly at him.

"Good morning..." Philip said, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Good rising." Syrena replied, sitting up and beginning to stretch. Philip took the chance to look at her body as she did this, unable to keep his eyes from wandering over her full figure. She was dressed in a flowing white dress of unknown fabric. It covered enough, but still left nothing to the imagination. Philip flushed.

"There is a stream not far from here. I need to wash, and I would imagine you do too..." Syrena said. Philip noticed that her speech pattern had changed slightly. She had been practicing, perhaps?

"Yes, that would be nice. Would you like to wash while I find breakfast?" Philip said, catching his thoughts up to the present.

"I will fish and bathe at the same time. Come." Syrena said, turning and disappearing into the jungle. Philip paused, heat rising in his cheeks, then followed.

* * *

The stream was a deep but not wide spanse of water cutting through the trees and rushing out to the sea. The azure water was cool and not particularly fast moving, perfect for bathing. The morning was already beginning to warm up, and Philip could feel the perspiration on his back.

By the time Philip reached the gravel shore, Syrena had already dove in, her fins sparkling silver in the blue current. Philip watched in amusement as she swam after a freshwater fish, his smile turning to a grimace as the mermaid ripped the head off the fish then took a bite.

Deciding that he would lose his appetite if he watched any more, Philip stripped off his grimy and tattered white shirt and dunked it in the water, trying to scrub out the stains as best as could. After a few minutes, he realized the futility and laid the garment out to dry.

Looking to where he had last seen Syrena, Philip flushed as he fiddled with his belt and slipped off his boots. The mermaid was still distracted by the fish, so he stepped over to a rock and removed the rest of his clothing before quickly sliding into the water and using a large rock for privacy.

Not that he was afraid of being seen naked by a woman, nor did the notion make him particularly... He just wanted to be a gentleman about the matter, and his devotion to God... well, he thought God would frown upon such things.

Not that God was present in these territories. Just the fact that he was traveling with a mermaid seemed to be a sign that God's reach did not extend as far as the Caribbean Isles, but Philip thought that even a mermaid seeing a clergyman naked was a sin in some book, even if only in an etiquette novel.

"Philip?" Syrena's voice startled the Clergyman out of his thoughts, causing his to slip off the submerged rock he stood on and go underwater only to come up spluttering.

"Syrena, I-I-I'm not dressed! Just erm a-avert your eyes if you would, please!" Philip said in a rush, trying to pull his wet hair out of his eyes and cover himself at the same time. Once his vision was clear, he saw Syrena perched on his privacy rock, legs already back.

"Really, it's improper!" He insisted, turning redder by the second.

"Are you going to get out, Philip? I have the fish ready." Syrena said, raising an eyebrow.

"Erm, yes... Well, I am." Philip said, trying not to look embarrassed and failing. Syrena just stared, swinging her legs over the edge of the rock like a small child.

After a moment, Philip cleared his throat expectantly. Syrena raised both eyebrows.

"I need you to look away... so that I may put on my clothes?" Philip said, trying to sound polite and calm.

"Why?" Syrena asked, picking up a fish from a fold of her dress and beginning to chew on it thoughtfully.

"Because i'm not presentable for a... well, a lady to look upon." Philip replied.

"Why? You look quite all right." Syrena said, spitting out a bone.

"Please, Syrena? Just look away while I put my breeches on?" Philip tried, laughing nervously. Syrena just kept her eyebrows raised, obviously not understanding the root of his embarrassment.

Philip sighed, mustering his courage. After a moment, he stepped out of the water, proceeding in an orderly fashion to the rock where he put his clothes and pulling his pants on quickly. He slung his shirt over his shoulder to dry and began to walk back to Syrena.

The mermaid was chewing on another fish with what Philip assumed was a bored expression on her face, but when he caught her eye a mischievous smile played over her lips.

Philip stopped in his tracks, flushing redder than a tomato. Syrena laughed impishly before spitting out another fish bone.


	5. Chapter 5

Philip's blush didn't recede as he ate his fish skewer. Syrena's earlier behavior had brought another matter to mind, and it was bothering him.

He didn't know how mermaid culture went, but it was obviously very different than what he was used to. Back in the church where he taught before his mission, a woman didn't just stare at a man's... well, at a man.

Which brought up another issue... him being a man, her being a woman. Alone. On a deserted island.

"Syrena?" Philip heard himself asking before his brain could catch up.

The mermaid looked up from where she was devouring a raw fish, a piece of the oily skin hanging off her chin. Philip reached over and brushed it away, forcing himself not to gag as he did so.

He pulled back, suddenly lost for words. Syrena raised an eyebrow then went back to gnawing on her fish.

"M-must you do that?" Philip stuttered before she caught him staring at her. The mermaid fixed him in her mesmerizing gaze once again. He floundered for a followup.

"...what?" she asked when he failed to make any coherent words.

"E-eat like, well... that." He replied lamely, tossing the roasting stick from his fish into the fire.

"You don't like the way I eat? I like it just fine." the mermaid replied petulantly.

"It's raw..." Philip protested, following the arc of a fishbone as she spit it away from their campsite. He couldn't help the mild squeamish expression that graced his unshaven features.

"You have not said anything up until now." Syrena glared, biting the last of the meat off the fish and tossing the carcass in the fire.

"Well, I-I... well." Philip stammered lamely.

The campsite lapsed into silence, broken only by the sounds of the jungle and the stream.

"So." Syrena prodded after a while.

"So?" Philip threw back.

"Where do we go now?" she asked, cocking her head.

"Well... I guess we could... ah, well. I don't know." he was making a bloody fool of himself.

"You don't know? How did you come here? We could leave the same way." Syrena said levelly.

"Well, Syrena... I came here tied to the mast of a pirate ship. Blackbeard's-"

At the mention of the black haired villain, Syrena interrupted with a loud hiss.

"I don't care for him either. I believe he is the entire reason we are in our situation now, and therefore - Did you say you wanted to leave?" Philip backpedaled.

"It is only reasonable..." Syrena shrugged.

"Well, I don't think we could leave without a ship. And I wager all the ships are long gone back to whence they came." Philip replied bitterly.

"We could always strap sea turtles-" Syrena began, but Philip held up a hang to silence her.

"That is a stupid myth that I hear from every pirate nowadays. Entirely impossible."

Syrena rolled her eyes as if she believed it were quite possible, but Philip didn't pursue the matter.

"Now, what I believe we should do is get up into the hills and perhaps we can assess the situation further."

Syrena offered neither protest or consent to this proposed plan, so Philip started putting out the fire and collecting their minimal belongings.

They hiked the good part of the day, following the stream away from the beach and up into the cliffs. Every once in a while, Philip would look back to see how Syrena was faring, but her blank face once again yielded no hints to what was on her mind.

Eventually the stream ended in a high waterfall, and the pair were forced to move away from the stream to look for an easier way up. They hiked for several miles, then stopped for rest.

"You sit here, I will find us some fruit to refresh us." Philip said. It had been a long time since they last had any water. As he left the clearing, he snuck one look over his shoulder. Syrena was sitting demurely on the rock he had indicated, staring off into the distance. He turned around and left, vowing to return soon.

* * *

An hour later, Syrena still sat perched on her rock, looking around the clearing. Philip had been gone for what seemed like an eternity and darkness was coming on little by little.

Suppressing a shiver, Syrena slid carefully off her rock.

"Philip?" she called cautiously.

No answer.

"Philip?" she called, louder this time.

A twig snapped to her right, causing her to jump.

Syrena made a few cautious steps towards the direction Philip had gone, peering into the dark jungle.

Another twig snapped, louder this time. Syrena's head snapped to the side. Quickly, she turned and plunged into the undergrowth, away from the clearing and hopefully following the missionary's trail.


End file.
